


a good chase

by thefudge



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, Unresolved Romantic Tension, scruffy-looking nerfherder, they got a han/leia thing going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:06:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: TLJ spoilers. Rose clashes with a certain cynical slicer.





	a good chase

**Author's Note:**

> shut up, this ship is real.

“I like’em young.”

DJ looks up from his drink. A hefty Crolute is sitting next to him, ogling a petite-looking waitress passing by. Her flimsy uniform makes his double chin tremble in delight.

DJ could easily pinch his pockets and relieve him of his cash, but he’s too tired to lift a finger. Besides, The First Wankers paid him well.

Still, something about the slimeball’s words rubs him the wrong way. Sure, the world is full of pretty young things who are lusted after by creeps.  But _he’s_ not one of them. He’s a specific kind of asshole, a respectable asshole.

 _He_ doesn’t have a thing for young girls. He doesn’t like’em young or doe-eyed or full of upright enthusiasm. There’s nothing less attractive to him. 

He grips the glass and downs the drink in one go. And then slams it into the Crolute’s face.  

It’s just the adrenaline from the night. He does _not_ regret anything about dealing with the First Order. He’d only like to wipe out that memory from his head. The one that keeps rolling back like dice.

 

 

_Rose is kneeling on the floor, staring in shock at the man who sold them out. Her eyes glimmer with hatred, but there’s something so naked and earnest about the flood of anguish on her face that he can’t help but look down briefly._

_What does she expect of him? They only just met. It’s nothing personal._

_But somehow, she makes it personal when she asks, “ Why?” quietly, hatefully._

_It fucks him up just a little._

 

He knows why she was so dumbfounded. She _liked_   him, even started to trust him a little after he gave her back her necklace. He could tell no one had done something like that for her, that her life had been devoid of gentle gestures.

You can easily win someone over if you give them that one thing they’re starved for, even if it’s not much in the scheme of things.

Not much at all. 

He can still see that necklace, the half-moon dangling between his fingers and the way her face just quietly lit up. For him. 

 

 

Rose – that’s her name, he better remember it cuz she's got a particular _look_ in her eye – tells him to roll up his sleeve.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” he asks, sauntering into her personal space. He enjoys the way her cheeks flush.

They’re still on board the stolen ship, careening through speed light.

“Stop fooling around. I want to check if you’ve got a tracking chip.”

“Now you’re insulting m-me.”

“You’re totally wasted. You might’ve not noticed when they branded you.”

 _Branded you._ He sits with the words, tastes the edges on his tongue.

He rolls his sleeve up for her.

Her small fingers map the thick branches of his veins, angry blue against aged skin. Shit, where have the years gone? And she’s practically a kid. He feels weirdly self-conscious. Her touch is ticklish. 

“Now the other arm,” she demands.

“Did –errr-did anyone ever do that…” he trails off, nudging his chin in her direction.

Rose bristles, hair falling into her face like a curtain. “Just hold still.”

And yeah, he thinks both sides can go to hell, but the First Wankers sure deserve to get there first.

 

 

“What’s your deal?”

“M-My deal?” he raises an eyebrow as he shifts the small code plates between his fingers like poker chips.

“You steal other people’s stuff,” she says, staring pointedly at the necklace he’d pocketed from her. “And you sleep in prison cells …when you don’t _have_ to. I mean, you could be rich if that’s what you wanted.”

He’s amused by her inquisitive tone. She doesn’t like not understanding something. She needs everything to click. No spare parts.

“Anyone ever t-tell you, it’s not the loot that counts but the chase?”

She scrunches up her nose. “That sounds dumb.”

“Think about it, kid,” he mumbles and moves past her, nudging her playfully in the shoulder.

 

 

(She fumbles with the zipper. She's never worn an imperial uniform before. She's so afraid they're gonna get caught. How is she going to pull this off? Finn knows the inner workings of the First Order, but she's completely lost. 

He comes up behind her and presses the tips of his calloused fingers against her spine. He zips her up, stealing a look at the soft skin underneath. 

"Cheer up, kid. I got your back."

If only.)

 

 

The Resistance tracks him down eventually. That or he’s just a very fortunate man.

“Hey, _asshole_! Anyone ever tell you it’s not the loot that counts but the chase?”

DJ sees stars. Her fist collides with his chin, making the bone crack. She's got a good left hook, he's gotta own it to her. 

He stumbles over a crate and lands on his back. Rose is on him, like a bloodhound.

Her fingers curl against his lapels. She is shaking him. The girl is a tiny thing, but fierce. Her weight on his chest is like an anchor. He could pick her up if he wanted to.

The half-moon necklace around her neck dangles above his lips. 

He offers her a bloodied grin. “See? You thought about it.”

 

 

She always gets a little flustered - which in her case translates into angry _huffs_ \- when he strolls into the control room and leans against the wall with his hands in his pockets. As if he belongs there. When _no_ , the Resistance is still keeping an eye on him. He's technically on probation. Persona non grata. Kind of.

Anyway, _why_ is he looking at her like that?

"How's your fist, sweetheart?"

Rose smiles sweetly. It's meant to be spiteful, but she's too young to get it right. 

"How's your chin?" she counters. 

He taps it playfully. "You can come check."

Rose doesn't get him. What does he want? What's his game? When will he betray them next? 

The fact that she can only think of him in questions leaves her a little breathless. 

 

 

Like he said, he's a _respectable_ asshole. He doesn't like'em young and doe-eyed. He scorns enthusiasm. 

But he likes a good chase. 


End file.
